


Lions and Eagles

by orphan_account



Series: Scarlet and Blue [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fifth Year, Gryffindor John, Hogwarts AU, M/M, Potterlock, Ravenclaw Sherlock, Update: new alternate ending!, Updated: 4/14, no canon HP characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That was the first time he encountered the boy, at the Sorting ceremony, but not the last. They had two or three classes together for three years (second, third and fourth year); switching between Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration. They only had one class in first year; flying. This year they had a considerable amount of classes together. Or near each other at the least, which neither of the boys minded. Back in year three, they had worked together in Divination and were inseparable since.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wanted to make, and after the past two new episodes I got a bit emotional and stuff. It's a series yes, and I'm thinking of re-doing episodes but someone else has done that (in a slightly different fashion).
> 
> \---  
> 4/14: ok so I reread this and realized I wanted to rewrite the ending but I didn't want to delete the original one? So I'm attaching the other one which is basically the same but Sherlock initiating a certain event. I also edited my dumb typos.

John Watson wasn't expecting a lot of things to happen in his first few years at Hogwarts. Mostly because he didn't know of a Ravenclaw who was in the same year as him would be caught up in it. Of course he knew about the Holmes' it was impossible not too. Sherlock was one of the few kids who still came from a pureblood lineage. He was Ravenclaw, which was unordinay considering most purebloods were in Slytherin (like his brother Mycroft).

That was the first time he encountered the boy, at the Sorting ceremony, but not the last. They had two or three classes together for three years (second, third and fourth year); switching between Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration. They only had one class in first year; flying. This year they had a considerable amount of classes together. Or near each other at the least, which neither of the boys minded. Back in year three, they had worked together in Divination and were inseparable since.

"John, hey!" Sherlock called out, blue and bronze scarf flapping behind him as he hustled over towards John. "I found a book of interest," he punctuated interest as if only John would find it that way, "in the restricted area of the library," he muttered and leaned down slightly, and whispered, "same place after lights out?"

"Would you tell me what the book's about, first?" John laughed slightly, with a small upward quirk on the corners of his mouth. 

Sherlock gave an annoyed look, and rolled his eyes, "not a chance. You do know the definition of a surprise, yes? Are you in or not?" John only shrugged, and Sherlock scowled in response. "John," he mumbled with a groan; begging wasn't his style, but he could definitely whine.

"Fine, fine, 'lock! Room of requirement, again?" Sherlock nodded and shoved something in John's robe pocket before grinning wide (it was one of his dumb "I know something you dont" smiles). The Gryffindor looked down and turned the small vial with teal liquid over before looking at Sherlock questioningly.

"Wideye potion; won't be sleeping for awhile." Sherlock explained idly, like John had to be reminded of this fact on a regular basis. 

"Good, last time you gave me Vita-whatever. Next time you use an energy potion on me, make sure you see how long it'll last." John said with a snort, and tugged on Sherlock's scarf with a little force, "See you in Divination." He grinned grinned foolishly (which Sherlock returned with less enthusiasm) before turning away to hurry to their next classes. John greeted students as they walked by, some giving him a thumbs up (the quidditch team), while others gave polite but curt nods.

Two classes later, Sherlock managed to catch up with John on the way to Divination. Wrapping his long scarf (which he had taken off for this exact purpose) around John's neck, he yanked back and caught the light-haired boy as he toppled backwards. "The scarf isn't just usable on me." John only rolled his eyes, a lazy half smile on his face, and stood up, giving Sherlock a shove before returning to his former pace towards class. Sherlock walked right next to him, matching his usually quick strides with John's (shorter and slower) ones as they turned to go outside. It was easier to walk through the courtyards, as it was winter and nobody took the route that time of year.

It was the end of the cold season but he gave an involuntary shudder nonetheless, causing John to bring his arms up to his chest to warm himself out of habit. Sherlock took that as a cue, and draped his scarf around the two of them. Which ended up in them being closer.

"Sherlock."

"Yes, John?"

"People and talking. Remember that, Sherlock?" John sighed, and Sherlock grunted with an annoyed look.

Taking the scarf off of himself, he draped the remainder of it around John, "People do little else."

John gave an amused snort, "yes, 'lock, because me wearing your scarf instead of both of us wearing it, is so much better." With an exaggerated eyeroll, Sherlock propped his collar up more and shoved his hands in his pockets with a low mumble. "Come on, don't take it personally. We're talked about enough as it is, you know the rumors. Luke will kick me off the team if they get any worse."

"Lucifer's threatened to kick you off the team?" Sherlock raised his eyebrows in shock. "That's hardly fair, kicking a guy off the team because a few dumb girls. Megan and Ruby are just pissed that you rejected their offers of joining them for a date-"

John snorted as they rounded the corner to go back inside, "double date, Sherlock. They asked you too. And stop calling Luke that! His brother heard you last time and almost ripped my head off."

"That's besides the point. They shouldn't go around saying that we've been snogging, John." The shorter boys face flushed lightly at that, but he managed a laugh anyways. "OWLs. How are you doing so far?" Sherlock asked, unhooking his scarf from John and loosely hanging it around himself. They took a seat near the back of the classroom, around a circular table. This year they were learning how to interpret dreams more deeply. "I assume you've gotten the ingrediants for Potions class later, right?"

"OWLs are fine, I guess. Arithmacy is the only thing I don't think I'm doing well on. Mostly it's just Professor Harvelle's teaching style. She's too intimidating for anyone to get any real work done. Her daughter is even scared of her!" John exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air to gesture his annoyance with the class. He quickly fixated himself when he remembered they wasn't alone, but instead in a classroom. Lowering his voice John added, "yeah, they're in my room. we'll have to swing by during lunch break."

"Thank Merlin prefects have their own room and bathrooms. It's a nice advantage. Are we going to sit at your table or mine? Unless you wanna go sneak a trip to the lake and eat. The mermaids would be kind enough to let us eat in peace."

"Mermaids in the school lake! If I wasn't a wizard I would swear this whole school was a joke. Sure, we can eat out there." They were silent for awhile as they copied down notes from the textbook, and then compared their analysis of last nights dream they were assigned, with the correct one. John and Sherlock always paired up in Divination, and this quarter was no different. The two of them both got it mostly correct, except John who always forgot to take at least one sense (usually smells) into consideration.

It was a day before the long weekend, so the homework in Divination was more complex. You had to project your own dream for your to break down. Thankfully the potion for this was included. This was something Professor Oswald had to grade herself, as each work would be different so it might as well be done the right way. Plus, it was hard to come across ingrediants to make a potion that would induce dreams, so time would be needed. They agreed to use Sherlock's dreams because John's were usually, well, personal. Like I-dream-about-your-eyes or I-wake-up-screaming-in-the-night personal. John never pursued the former dreams ideas, though, Sure, he dropped small hints and flirted back but that was in the safety of his guaranteed privacy. He hated seeming uninterested, but he assumed Sherlock might not like him like that. Though, he could; Sherlock was always surprising him like that. John didn't exactly have good people skills– well, Sherlock skills. 

The bell's echo still bounced around in his head as Sherlock grabbed John's wrist and guided them quickly out of the building. The winter wasn't as snowy as it was in the past, much to the dismay of some students. For John and Sherlock, though, it was perfect. The two split to go to where they're associated rooms were. John accio'd his broom out of his window (which he always left open in the day, he liked going to bed with crisp pillows) and waited for Sherlock outside. 

It was a short trip over the water (which Sherlock hated with his life). Flying was okay, but flying over water with John while on a Potter-Era broom wasn't. Once they landed (and Sherlock regained his colour) they sat down and ate the sandwiches John brought from the kitchen.

"There were other fifth years in the Astronomy tower." Sherlock stated simply. "They saw us fly by, but I doubt they'll say anything."

"And why's that?" John asked half-mindedly, he was more interested in his sandwich.

Biting a small corner in his sandwich, Sherlock frowned mockingly, "You're kidding me. If I know what kids do in that tower, than so do you." John knitted his brows together, before it connected. If you wanted a snogging-session the tower was a perfect spot, the winding stairs made it hard to access but if you were desperate enough, it worked.

"Oh, yeah," he whispered looking down, embarrased. They made small-talk before it was time to go, and Sherlock started hinting at what the book was about. "I know for a fact you'll love it, we were talking about just this last month."Sherlock had also said they would meet back at class, so John went and got the ingrediants he was in charge of and put his broom away. There was one more class after Potions, but Herbology came easy to John. That's one of the reasons he wanted to be a healer of some kind, and plants played a big part of healing. Sherlock, though, may not even have to work, inheritance would probably take care of it all.

Potions wasn't exactly their favorite class, and this year was worse since a lot of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors dropped out of it. So that meant all the houses were thrown in too. Great. Slytherins weren't his favorite, mostly because they were all stuck-up gossips, and because they included Irene Adler, Jim Moriarty, Sebastian Moran, Megan Masters, and Ruby Cortese. The group of them sat in the back of the room, on the same side as the door. Sherlock insisted they sit on the other side, because he didn't want to 'catch their stupid'.

There was a few more minutes before class would start, so everyone was still talking. Sherlock was going on about the book he had picked up, he seemed really excited for him and John to go through it. "The pages are really old looking, but seem generally unused. It was also in the slightly restricted area, so it must be good-" Sherlock couldn't finish his sentence because Professor Singer walked in and threw his bag under his desk.

"Alright, kids. Today we're working with one of the strongest love potions. Amorentia. As we've talked about before, love potions do not create love. They just amplify it, or create obsessions. This potion though, smells like the things that you're attracted to, even if you don't know it." Some of the girls around the room giggled, and Professor Singer just gave a glare. "You can attempt to make one as extra credit but only in here with my permission; like I said, strongest love potion." He lifted the top off a cauldron, "If you try, you can have a whiff of this. What I'm getting at is; try it or you can do an essay on it's effects," and with that the room started up with sound of chairs scratching on the floor.

Sherlock threw his bundle of ingrediants on the table and gave a devious grin, "I called it."

"Course you did, 'lock," John mumbled as he opened the spellbook to the table of contents and settled it in front of them, "you always do." The corners of Sherlock's mouth tilted upwards as he flicked the pages until he got to the right one. His fingers fluttered over the words of a page he thought was right and pointed at a paragraph. John took that as a 'this is where we are.' John took the liberty to spread out the ingrediants by when they were required. Sherlock did most of the work, so John would make idle chat, flip the page when needed or read the instructions aloud.

It was around halfway through class when Sherlock finished and leaned his chair on the back two legs, "done."

"You gonna smell it, Sherlock?" John asked, a bit confused at why he was just sitting there.

"There's no need. I know it's right."

"You should check anyways." 

"Fine I'll compare this one to Singer's so I know I'm still always right," he leaned in and inhaled deeply, before nodding for John to go. John did the same, and closed his eyes with a sigh. It had a smell of antiquity, like it's past its time but valuable. There was also a hint of aged books, sugar and- and what else? There was something else, it was much more dominant than the others, but he couldn't place it. "Like what you're smelling?" Sherlock's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and his face flushed instantly.

"Shut up, Sherlock. Why, did you not smell your own sweet essence?" John joked, nudging Sherlock in the ribcage with his elbow.

With a snort, the dark-haired boy ruffled his curls back to life from where they were flattened by Sherlock's scarf, "not at all, John. Why, did you?"

"Keep dreaming buddy. I'll tell you what I smelled if you tell me what yours did," he countered, raising his hand so the teacher could check it. Sherlock nodded but held a finger up, signalling to wait until professor Singer left. The Potions teacher walked up quickly, used the spoon to churn the potion before observing the colour, thickness and opacity with a sample he had in a small cylinder. 

"Good job, boys. You can talk quietly for the rest of class, there's only ten more minutes."

"Thanks, Sir!" John replied, turning his attention back to Sherlock. "So, tell me one and we can go back and forth."

"Thunderstorms."

"the one where it's all windy and there's leaves everywhere and it tastes like electricity?"

"That's the one," Sherlock stated.

"Sugar quills."

"Tea from that shop in London."

"Old books."

Sherlock opened his mouth like he was going to say something but snapped it shut like he thought better of it.

"What?" John asked, a bit confused at the sudden stop. Sherlock was about to speak again but a red-headed girl bounced towards their table and looked at John expectantly.

"So John, I was wondering if you wanted to, um, go on a date with me next weekend. You know, on the Hogsmeade trip?" She asked, smiling brightly and batting her eyes.

"Sorry I have plans to eat already," he paused before adding, "at the Three Broomsticks, but we can always try to hang before that." John suggested, returning her smile with less enthusiasm. She nodded happily and turned on her heel before running back to her friends giggling.

"Anna's only asking because she wants to make Moriarty jealous, you know. She keeps glancing at him every couple minutes. Her oggling is starting to piss me off more than usual." Sherlock pointed out, gesturing his head towards where Jim Moriarty sat next to a blonde boy, Sebastian something. 

"I said try, Sherlock. Try doesn't mean yes. Anyways, I said I was going to Broomsticks, she knows I have plans with someone." John added, sighing a bit as he slumped in his chair. "Plus everyone knows how it is when we hang out, crazy shit happens that could lead us anywhere so it was basically a no. Remember the Quidditch parties? Every time my team won in Quidditch, we would play truth or dare after dark? We got in so much trouble that way!"

"Yeah, you would always go for truth so they started including you in my dares!" Sherlock half laughed, and stood up as the bell rang. "I'll meet you outside your commonroom for dinner."

They split ways and went back to their dorms to put their things away. John tidied up his bed and books, so they looked decent. He shoved a few candies in his robe, and changed his tie (the one he was wearing smelled like lake water). He fixed his hair in the back where it was sticking out and took off towards the commonroom. He didn't have to worry about Sherlock, he knew the password (John had told him) and visited regularly so everyone was used to it by now. He didn't have to wait long, either, Sherlock was sitting on a chair flipping through a book that was left on the table when he came down. He settled the book back down when he saw John and stood up, "Hungry?"

"Starving!"

The two of them decided to sit down next to Molly and Greg, who were both sitting at the Hufflepuff table instead of staying at the Gryffindor table. They smiled at each other as John and Sherlock sat directly across from them. "John, Luke wanted me to tell you there's practice in the morning," Greg mumbled, sipping gratefully at the warm beverage in his hand. 

John nodded and tucked into his food; at home he never ate a lot but the food at Hogwarts was too good not to stuff yourself. They all ate at different paces and finished at different times (Greg always finished last, if you didn't count Sherlock who only ate a handful of bites). When dinner was over, they all walked towards where the house points were tallied. The four of them stood there talking about their days, and what the they were going to do at Hogsmeade next week. John invited Greg and Molly to come with them to the Three Broomsticks but they declined, Molly and Sally were going to walk around and shop, while Greg was hanging out with his and Mycroft's friends at the Shrieking Shack. 

"It's weird that you're seeing Mycroft, Greg." John had laughed, when he heard that the older Holmes brother had asked Greg to lunch. 

"What? Are you mad that I've moved on from you, John and found interest in an older man?"

"Ew." Sherlock interjected, "that is my brother, you know." 

Greg replied with some smarmy remark but John didn't get to hear it as Molly quietly whispered in his ear, "no one's going to listen to you when you say you're straight if you keep smiling at Sherlock like that."

"Shut up, Molly. You do the same thing with Adler." John snapped angrily, and stomped towards the Gryffindor rooms. Molly sighed sadly, watching him go. She didn't mean the conversation to go that way but John always made it that way. Sherlock watched him climb the stairs and twitched his nose in annoyance. A fussy John wasn't a fun John.

John had managed to finish his homework while he waited for Sherlock to send an owl over so he knew it was safe to leave. Sherlock and John were stumbling around a few years back when they came across the room of requirements. It was exactly what they needed, a home away from home. Both boys came from odd families, where neither were treated specially. The room had become their own private place, where Sherlock usually kept his weird experiments. Weird as in burning eyeballs, and freezing kneecaps in the fridge. It was a relaxing place to wind down (and get away) plus, it made a good hiding spot. When John walked in the book was laid out and Sherlock was making clattering noises in the kitchen. John sat down in his chair and rest his head in his hands.

Sherlock's head popped out and he looked at John confused for a bit. "What?" John ask snapped irritably.

"I asked if you wanted tea, John."

John sighed and nodded, "yes, please. Thanks for asking." When Sherlock handed him a cup, John took a tentative sip before half gagging. "What is this?"

"I told you John, its a cup of tea. The kind that's made with hot water."

"It's cold."

"Still a cup of tea."

"I'm not even sure it's tea."

"Dear Merlin, John! A cup of not-hot not-tea." Sherlock huffed, snatching the drink away from John and threw the book on John's lap. "Page 173 is the one we're looking for." John turned to the page and let out a snort at first, but the further he read the more he laughed. By the end of the chapter he was holding his sides and doubled over. "Thought some good old fashioned fun was needed.

"Some of these are outrageous, Sherlock! A hair loss curse, a curse that makes the target sing- what if we used the singing one on Mycroft?" John giggled, imagining the older Holmes boy singing uncontrollably.

Sherlock stifled a laugh, "if it suits you. The chapters full of good ones like those. Mycroft will be around next week if I remember the conversation after dinner correctly." John nodded and kept flipping through the chapter repeatedly, reading all the interesting ones aloud. Sherlock smiled faintly, glad he chose this book for the night instead of the one on becoming animagi.

The two of them laid on the floor for a few hours, trying out little spells that didn't take much effort at all. John had managed to turn a vase into a flock of birds, glue his shoes to the floor and change a lamp into a rabbit. Sherlock had stared intently at the ceiling saying nothing. So John did the only reasonable thing, used a babbling charm on him to loosen his tongue (which being looked back on, wasn't all that reasonable).

It was a really bad idea. Sherlock wouldn't stop talking nonsense, plus when he realized all his pondering was being done aloud he countered back using a truth charm on John as revenge. The two of them only stopped to laugh loudly and glance at each other with amused looks. Most of the things they were going on about weren't clear and came off as ramblings but at some point they started to gain control of enunciation.

"I wait all day for the last three classes because that means time with you," John chattered away, "no matter how much I hate the class I know you'll be able to make it better, even though you don't talk much in them."

"Agreed all the other students are boring, they never do much plus they think I'm scary but I can assure you I am not. Mad, dangerous, bored, yes. Scary? N-"

"On occasion." 

"I've always been the scary one in a situation but today I was a little of kilter today. We've seen goblins, dementors, poltergeists, and murderers but today was just, wow. You know why I was this way, John?" Sherlock chittered, gesturing largely with his hands as he laid on his back next to John looking at the ceiling.

\---  
(Original ending) 

"Potions class," they both said at the same time, then looked at each other and giggled again. The whole situation was making them loopy.

"All I could smell was imported tea, rainy quidditch fields and dumb jumpers. Why would I even find the smell of jumpers appealing, who does that? The best one though was that the potion smelled of danger and thrill, which was what scared me the most also. It's when I finally realized what it all meant. Then when Anna came up and asked you to lunch; which upset me, not going to lie there. I shouldn't have been so emotional about it but you don't deserve a Hufflepuff. Someone as brave as you doesn't need a boring girl like that. I've just now realized I should stop talking and I can't but I'm not sure I really want too. John do something before I bite my tongue off, and-" John cut him off, having taken his words seriously and capturing Sherlock's lips in a kiss. It was an attempt to keep him quiet, which only worked until they moved apart. "Not that that wasn't appreciated or anything, but I meant do something like get a counter curse before i cast the singing charm on you," Sherlock added, a slight blush on his face. 

"You can stay like that it gives me a good excuse to kiss you quiet," John laughed, and sat up instantly covering his mouth with his hands. "I didn't mean to say that out loud." They just kind of stared hard at each other for awhile but Sherlock burst into a fit of giggles and yanked John back down, pulling him into a bearhug. He took John's hand in his own and stretched them to the side, whispering in a stream of unintelligent nonsense as their foreheads touched and Sherlock's arm found its way around John again.

When they woke up the next morning they were both sitting on the armchair, Sherlock's legs swung over John's lap and draped over the armrest, his head nestled into Jogn's neck. John went to push the sleeping Ravenclaw off his lap, but he thought better of it and sighed. Shaking him gently, John thought about the night before. He had tried not to speak much, for fear of saying something he didn't want too. Which he did. When Sherlock finally stirred awake, he looked at John for a few minutes before getting up and holding his hand out for John. They both silently fixed their appearances; Sherlock putting on his robe and scarf while John laced his trainers. The energy potions still sitting on the table.

As they were about to leave, they looked at each other expectantly like one of them should say something. Sherlock cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say something, but John shook his head and held his hand out. The smile started with John first, and Sherlock followed after, linking their arms together instead of holding hands. They didn't say anything until they reached the great hall. John motioned for Sherlock to come closer so he could whisper in his ear. When Sherlock did, John made a small laughing sound and kissed his cheek, "is it safe to assume we have a date next weekend?"

"Yes, but you asked so you're paying, John."


	2. Alternate Ending!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ending scene but instead of Sherlock talking about what he smells, it's John. Basically the exact same as before just switched the roles.

\---  
(Alternate ending)

"Potions class," they both said at the same time, then looked at each other and giggled again. The whole situation was making them loopy.

"All I could smell was old books, sugar quills. Why would I even find the smell of aged paper appealing, who does that? The best one though was that the potion smelled of danger and thrill, which was what scared me the most also. It's when I finally realized what it all meant. And then Anna came up and-" 

Sherlock cut him off quickly, "speaking of her, when Anna came up and asked you to lunch; it upset me. I shouldn't have been so emotional about it but you don't deserve a Hufflepuff. Someone as brave as you doesn't need a boring girl like that." 

"As I was saying, I know what it means now but I don't want to say it, so don't try to make me spill or anything. Please do something before I bite my tongue off, this truth thing is going to kill me-" Sherlock cut him off, having taken his words seriously and capturing the Gryffindor's lips in a hastened kiss. It was an attempt to keep him quiet, which only worked until they moved apart to breathe. "Not that that wasn't appreciated or anything, 'lock, but I meant do something like get a counter curse before i cast the singing charm on you," John added, a slight blush on his face. 

"You can stay like that it gives me a good excuse to kiss you quiet," Sherlock laughed quietly, and sat up instantly covering his mouth with his hands. "I didn't mean to say that out loud." They stared hard at each other for awhile before bursting into a fit of giggles.

John pulled Sherlock back down, and into a hug. The Ravenclaw then took John's hand in his own and ran his thumb along the top of it, whispering in a stream of unintelligent nonsense as their foreheads touched and John's mouth found their way to Sherlock's again.

When they woke up the next morning they were both sitting on the armchair, Sherlock laying sideways, legs swung over John's lap and draped over the armrest, his head nestled into the blonde's neck. John (who was sitting on the chair the right way, with his feet resting on the stool) went to push the sleeping Holmes off his lap, but soon thought better of it and sighed. Shaking him gently, John thought about the night before. He had tried not to speak much, for fear of saying something he didn't want too. Which he already did. 

When Sherlock finally stirred awake, he looked at John for a few minutes before getting up. John thought Sherlock would try to forget about it but the taller boy held his hand out for John and squeezed it gently; all fears were gone after that. They both silently fixed their appearances; Sherlock putting on his robe and scarf while John laced his trainers. The energy potions still sitting on the table and the book upside down by the fireplace. 

As they were about to leave, they looked at each other expectantly like one of them was going to say something. Sherlock cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak, but John shook his head and held his hand out. The smile started with John first, and Sherlock followed after, linking their arms together instead of holding hands; he could feel John's warmth more that way. They didn't say anything until they reached the great hall. John motioned for Sherlock to come closer so he could whisper in his ear. When Sherlock did, John made a small giggle-y sound and kissed Sherlock's cheek, "is it safe to assume we have a date next weekend?"

"Yes, but you're paying, John."


End file.
